


Dream of Home

by Scientia_Fantasia



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing It Better, M/M, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-11 04:19:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7876081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scientia_Fantasia/pseuds/Scientia_Fantasia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emotional transference isn't always a walk in the park when your Vulcan has nightmares</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dream of Home

**Author's Note:**

> I like........cuddles

It was a collection of ideas, images thrown together haphazardly in a way that only made sense in dreams—the Enterprise, Iowan fields extending off into the far distance, towering clouds. Spock at his side. _Home_. Comfort. Somewhere to plant his feet—somewhere he _returned_ to. He missed it, a dull ache, filling his throat, a feeling his unconscious mind didn’t question. But then the scene shifted, turning darker, redder, frantic. The scenery crumbled, falling into the earth all around him. He looked around, couldn’t find… _someone_ , reached out, hand empty, everything disappearing beneath him—

Jim awoke with a start, eyes flying open, heart hammering against his chest, but the emotions from the dream didn’t fade at the sight of his quarters, beginning to blur in his vision.

It was only when he noticed that the arms wrapped around him were holding too tight and the skin pressing against the back of his neck was clammy that he realized, _That wasn’t my dream_. Had he not been feeling so immensely shitty at the moment, he might have been relieved that Spock was still there, beside him. As it was, he pulled away as best he could, thankful that he’d actually worn something to bed that night so breaking direct skin contact was easy—the grief ebbed away at that, letting him breathe, nonetheless leaving an echo he wouldn’t soon be forgetting.

The vice grip of a Vulcan wasn’t as easy to break, however, and he struggled fruitlessly against it until after a few long moments he was finally released, arms pulling back at the same time he heard a gasp of air behind him.

Jim immediately turned around, and the look on Spock’s face had him almost wishing for the dream back—completely open, panicked brown eyes welling with tears, staring frantically but not quite seeing—Jim’s heart felt torn in two.

He wanted so badly to hold Spock, kiss him, run his hands through his hair until he felt safe again but the memory of the misery seeping through contact was enough to keep him away, hands hovering uselessly. “Spock,” he said, voice rough from sleep—from holding back tears. “Spock, hey…I’m here, I’m here…”

Spock fell onto his back and turned his head away, gasps for air becoming deeper, if shuddering. It took mere moments for them to steady. With a final deep breath, he turned back around, expression carefully schooled. But his eyes were still a fraction too wide, his brow too tight, his eyelashes damp. “I am sorry.”

Jim shook his head, reaching out and placing a hand on Spock’s face, running his thumb under his eye. The feelings were still there, held right under the surface, but they no longer seeped into him so he moved over, positioning himself above Spock and kissing him—his mouth, his eyelids, his jaw, moving down to his neck and settling there, half-laying on Spock whose arms found their way around Jim’s waist.

“It’s okay,” he said, simply because there wasn’t anything else. “It’s okay.”


End file.
